


...Well, That's -One- Way To Do It

by josephina_x



Series: The One Wherein... the Kents are more Luthor than Luthor(?!) [1]
Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Betaed, Gen, Post Episode: s02e13 Suspect, Season/Series 02, rated for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-06
Updated: 2013-11-06
Packaged: 2017-12-31 17:28:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1034388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/josephina_x/pseuds/josephina_x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lex has come to terms with the fact that Clark is not his half-sibling by way of Rachel Dunleavy. That doesn't mean he's given up on the idea of Clark being his little brother. There may, however, be Unfortunate Implications attached to the actual <i>implementation</i> of such a feat...</p><p>Wherein Jonathan is a pirate, Lex discovers he's a feudal lord's son, and Martha is a conniving, scheming lady. (Un?)Fortunately, somebody forgets to tell Clark that he's supposed to be either a damsel in distress or a hostage, one of the two, so instead he just does what he wants. (Mostly.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	...Well, That's -One- Way To Do It

**Author's Note:**

> Title: ...Well, That's _One_ Way To Do It  
>  Author: [josephina_x](http://josephina-x.livejournal.com)  
> Artist: [ctbn60](http://ctbn60.livejournal.com) (a.k.a. [ctbn60](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ctbn60))  
> Beta: [nicnac918](http://nicnac918.livejournal.com) (a.k.a. [Nicnac](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicnac))  
> Word count: 15,900+  
> Rating: R (for language)  
> Pairing: Clark, Lex. Lex, Jonathan.  
> Genre: Drama, AU, Humor  
> Warnings: Beta’d by Nicnac (*grins* ;) . AU. Yet more Evil Italics Of Doom.  
> Spoilers: Up through the end of 2x13 in season 2. Diverges around and shortly after 2x13 (Suspect). (More-or-less recaps 2x05 through 2x13, then moves on from there.)  
> Summary: Lex has come to terms with the fact that Clark is not his half-sibling by way of Rachel Dunleavy. That doesn't mean he's given up on the idea of Clark being his little brother. There may, however, be Unfortunate Implications attached to the actual _implementation_ of such a feat...
> 
> Wherein Jonathan is a pirate, Lex discovers he's a feudal lord's son, and Martha is a conniving, scheming lady. (Un?)Fortunately, somebody forgets to tell Clark that he's supposed to be either a damsel in distress or a hostage, one of the two, so instead he just does what he wants. (Mostly.)
> 
> Disclaimer: Not mine, not-for-profit.  
> Comments: Yes, please! :)  
> Author's Note: Yeah, another series to bounce between. So sue me :-P (--actually, no, please _don't_ sue me. Suing me is bad. *nods*)
> 
> For the [smallvillebbang 2013 Challenge](http://smallvillebbang.livejournal.com/). Beta'd by the awesome [nicnac918](http://nicnac918.livejournal.com/), and art by the wonderful [ctbn60](http://ctbn60.livejournal.com/)!
> 
> ctbn60’s art post is [here on LJ](http://ctbn60.livejournal.com/375008.html) and [here on AO3](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1034472). (I love her art!! :)
> 
> Any errors that made it past Nicnac’s watchful eye (is that even possible?!) are entirely my own.

[ ](http://s1247.photobucket.com/user/josephina_x/media/sv-bb-2013/final_zps20ddf903.jpg.html)

~*~*~*~*~*~

When Lex first realized that Lionel had hired Mrs. Kent as his new personal secretary, he was irate. He knew exactly how Lionel had been treating the assistants he'd picked, and he did _not_ want Mrs. Kent mistreated. He went so far as to even be vocal about it. But Lionel only laughed in his face and more or less blew him off.

He asked Clark about it about as indirectly as possible, with no luck. He wasn't really able to broach the topic with his best friend. Unfortunately, there was no way he could talk to Jonathan about it. Frankly, he couldn't see how the man could possibly be willing to put up with the whole situation, given his seething hatred for all things (and people) Luthor. Perhaps Clark's family really did need the money, but _that_ badly? There had to be something there that he wasn't seeing.

Then Clark had discovered those Kawatche caves, and Lex had had his first foray into Kent family inner-circle politics. As it turned out, Clark and his mother apparently didn't always see eye to eye, and when it came to creating possible jobs and making money versus safeguarding and preserving a historical treasure for future generations to learn from, Mrs. Kent fell squarely in the former along with Lionel, and that alone made Lex cringe. (...Though he wasn't entirely sure why Clark fell into the latter case with him. Why was Clark as fascinated with the cave drawings as he was? --Could it be perhaps a case of like truly calling to like? Lex would love to think so. He enjoyed sharing interests with his younger friend.)

But when putting Mrs. Kent's thoughts and deeds in context -- the current state of Kent family affairs -- that at-a-glance superficial view of practicality in money matters did not bode well for the future of the family farm. Because, from what Lex could see, instead of trying to put her efforts towards saving the farm and making it more profitable, Mrs. Kent had basically abandoned those efforts as though they were entirely futile, as if she'd seen dark portents likened to the signs heralding a sinking ship. She was no longer working at the farm, helping out with tasks closer to the house. She was neither tending her own smaller (but still substantial) organic vegetable garden of cash-crop specialty items, nor was she continuing to keep up her new side baking business -- she couldn’t, not with the hours Lionel had her working, and she’d known that going into it.

Instead, she had decided to contribute outside of the home, which -- while bringing in a much-needed infusion of cash to the household -- also left her menfolk a bit in the lurch and fending for themselves. It was clear even to Lex that the salary she was making wouldn’t offset the cost of her absence; they needed more actual physical help and presence on-premises to have the farm at least breaking even, let alone turning any sort of profit. If anything, Mrs. Kent’s move to her new secretarial job looked more like a move designed to build up her resume so that, when the inevitable occurred, she would be well-placed to be the primary breadwinner. With a recent job of “Lionel Luthor’s personal secretary” under her belt -- and having lasted far longer than a week at it, it would be clear to anyone that her tenacity and qualifications were obviously second-to-none -- her next job would certainly be able to support the three of them in whatever town or city they’d need to move to, after they’d declared bankruptcy, finished filing for it, and had everything resolved once the farm was sold and their debtors paid.

If Lex was reading the situation correctly, then she and her husband were, for all intents and purposes, not working towards a common goal -- assuming that the only reason she'd taken the job was for matters of money, and not some other unknown strategy at which he could not guess. But the Kents did not seem capable of such cloak-and-dagger subterfuge.

...At least, not the Kent _men_ , anyway. When Lex heard the PR release from LuthorCorp on the Kawatche caves, he'd thought it perhaps a fluke. It could have been something both Lionel and Martha had worked out together, with some gentle behind-the-scenes persuasion from Mrs. Kent's, because Lionel would have made that simple concession for her. His desire to win the long game with Mrs. Kent was worth more to him at the moment than what was just one in the latest of moves in his ongoing game with Lex. Rather than continuing to fight Lex further in the short term for something for which he saw no large short-term gain just then, Lionel had opted to take a short-term gain with Martha, in what would likely score a great number of points with her, if not have her owing him a favor or several -- god help her.

But when Lex finally heard -- well after the fact -- what LuthorCorp was doing to handle the rather grossly mishandled case of the young Mister Byron, he nearly sprayed a fine mist of very expensive alcohol halfway across the library in shock. The plan LuthorCorp was implementing had been a masterstroke, nothing short of brilliant, would handle the problem about as ethically well as possible under the circumstances... and would also keep the incident almost entirely out of the public eye in the future while also performing a level of damage control in such a way that, if handled delicately, could even have the company looking _good_ , for all that the public loved to see a company look responsible and clean up its own 'highly unfortunate' messes with 'unforeseen and regrettable consequences'.

Of course, that had not been the shocking part, per se. What was shocking was that Lex knew that Lionel could never have conceived of such a plan, even with help, let alone had the inclination to implement it, as it actually involved trying to make things better for those other parties involved -- rightfully treating them as the victims they were, rather than sheep to be sheared and slaughtered before ultimately being tossed aside like so much useless waste. Lionel simply didn't think in such a fashion. Certainly none of the LuthorCorp PR staff could or did either, let alone would have dared to suggest such a plan if they had. Which left only one person on Lionel's staff who could have done. But to do that, to conceive of such a thing, required a mind ruthless enough to consider such possibilities, weigh them, make a decision... and then _force_ it upon Lionel somehow. Which meant that Mrs. Kent had convinced Lionel to do it, through solid argument or some other, darker means. Which, one way or another, meant that she had power over Lionel, and was willing and able to use it to get what she wanted.

And Lex couldn't _conceive_ of anyone having a hold over Lionel -- not now, not ever.

But with the cold hard facts staring him in the face, he could only come to one conclusion.

Mrs. Kent wasn't just some farmer's wife, smiling and baking and tending the garden, cleaning the house and caring for her family. Mrs. Kent was _dangerous_.

And she'd taken sides at least once with Lionel over Lex and the wishes of _her own son_.

It made him afraid.

Lex didn't particularly _like_ being afraid.

Lex considered knowledge to always be a good tool to fight it with -- understanding generally tended to kill fear and dread like Beowulf slaying the proverbial family of Grendel-monsters.

...But not in this case.

When Lex had Martha researched, and unearthed her pre-law background and Metropolitan origins, it confused and startled him.

When he realized that she was one of _those_ Clarks -- undoubtedly the origin of Clark's first name -- his disquiet grew.

When one of his sources discovered that she'd originally been in line to inherit and head her father's family law firm, and generally thought fully-capable of doing so, he flew into a panic.

Why the hell had she married Jonathan Kent of all people? And, even blaming it on 'love', _why the hell had she given up everything and moved to Smallville?_

Because she _had_ given up **literally** _everything_. No job -- she'd given up law. No career -- she'd given up advanced schooling as well. No contacts -- she'd left all her known friends and acquaintances behind in the city. No familial support -- because by all accounts she and Jonathan had isolated themselves from her parents, to the point that apparently the Clarks had heard about Clark's adoption second- or third-hand, and had never actually met their adoptive grandson. Not until recently, it was rumored in town, when Martha had first begun looking for alternate financial help for the farm, but Clark had never brought it up, and Lex was unsure of how to broach the topic with him, or if he even could.

_What was she after?_

With Jonathan? Lex had no clue.

With Lionel? Her motives were even less clear.

...Lionel's motives, on the other hand, were _very_ clear. Lex's failed attempt to bug the LuthorCorp main office notwithstanding, that whole mess with Lionel calling Martha in to work on her wedding anniversary had well and truly been a clusterfuck of epic proportions.

Not to mention a very expensive women's gold watch that Lex found a receipt for, which he could find no trace of anywhere in the mansion, in Lionel's rooms or elsewhere.

Lex had breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the paperwork going through for Martha's leave from LuthorCorp's -- or, more accurately, his father's -- employ.

And then turned right around and gotten a figurative punch to the gut and the rug pulled out from under him when Lionel unveiled his latest takeover -- LexCorp. While Lex had been distracted, the bastard had been buying up shares of the company from the townsfolk. Apparently, between buying the local bank and holding the threat of foreclosing people's mortgages over their heads after even one missed payment, and whatever else Lionel might have found to threaten his shareholders with, Lionel had ended up with the other half of the shares of LexCorp. And with Lex's shares of LuthorCorp tied up in backing the company, Lionel well and truly had his balls in a vise.

And then Lionel had had the audacity to offer him the choice of getting his own damn job back, but working for Lionel all over again, or to go suck eggs in the unemployment line.

He'd spent the night in his rooms at the mansion, drinking like a fish and shaking with rage.

The next morning, he'd been woken with the horrible news that his father had been shot.

...And it really spoke to him how drunk he still must have been at the time that he'd considered that horrible news.

Except that it really was horrible news.

And Lex was going to keep telling himself that, and that he'd made the right decision in pulling that beam off of Lionel during the tornado hit, until he fucking started believing it again. If he ever really had.

Then Clark had come and yelled at him, accusing Lex of having shot his own father, and the day had gotten that much worse.

Lex had forgiven Clark for it afterwards, after coming to realize that Jonathan had been the one implicated and, as it turned out, framed, for the attempted murder. He'd just been panicking.

All-in-all, Lex was happy that Clark had managed to catch the Sheriff red-handed and clear Jonathan's name, even if the way he and Chloe had gone about it had been horribly dangerous. He was less than happy to hear from his father that the reason the sheriff had tried to shoot Lionel had been because Lionel had been using the sheriff to dig up dirt on Lex's self-same LexCorp investors and board members.

But when he visited Clark later that evening, wanting to discuss his decision to stay and work for his father, or... or what? Leave? Lex wasn't sure if striking out on his own was even a real option at this point. Lionel would surely just have him blacklisted from any other position he could take, wait until Lex was frustrated enough to give up, and reel him back in, wouldn't he?

When he visited Clark...

...Clark had had his own set of worries, still.

"Clark, what's wrong? Your father _has_ been cleared of all charges, hasn't he?"

Clark nodded, but looked nervous still.

"Clark?"

Clark fidgeted and bit his lip.

Lex sat down on the couch in the loft next to him, his own worries all-but-forgotten. He'd never seen Clark react this way before.

"Clark, _what's wrong?_ "

"I--" Clark's face screwed up in worry, and he wrung his hands together in his lap. "I--"

Clark glanced around the loft, looking everywhere but at Lex.

"I don't know!" he finally blurted out. "Mom and dad-- _I don't know!_ "

Lex slid a little closer and put a hand on Clark's shoulder, lightly, trying to comfort, and the floodgates suddenly burst.

"Mom and dad are acting weird! And, and mom had this watch, and dad broke it, and mom thought dad might've actually shot your dad! She-- why would she think that?"

"Clark... you thought that..." Lex said carefully.

"-- _Because she did!_ " Clark blurted out miserably. "I, I thought he never would've, but then, mom said-- she said--!" He looked up at Lex anxiously. " _She wasn't sure_ , Lex!"

Clark was holding his head in his hands and shaking, and Lex was starting to get truly worried because, Christ, if _this_ was what Clark had been holding in, then it was a small wonder that Clark hadn't been running around town accusing every last person of being the killer, and not just Lex, who he generally felt safe blowing up at from time to time.

And then something occurred to him.

"Clark, what watch?"

"Your dad gave my mom a watch on her anniversary with dad," Clark explained as he wiped at his eyes with short jerking motions. "It was really messed up." And he said it so tonelessly that it obviously had not quite registered properly for him.

"There was an inscription," he added, and Lex shivered.

"...Lex?" Clark looked up at him, shockily. "Wh- wait, why did you--" Then his eyes widened. "Oh _god_ , you knew about the watch."

"--Only after," Lex gulped. _An inscription?_ He dreaded to think what it might have read.

He really didn't want to know.

"--He didn't do anything!" Lex said quickly, trying to be reassuring, hands fluttering in front of him uselessly. "My father and your mother -- they didn't do anything. He-- they-- your parents will be fine. They'll get through... whatever this is. Dad..." He shook his head. His fucking father and his goddamn mind games.

"How do you know?" Clark asked quietly, barely above a whisper, staring up at him.

Oh god. The outright terror he'd just instilled in his friend. Only belatedly did Lex realize that Clark hadn't even _conceived_ of the thought before Lex had said anything.

"I-- I just do, all right?" He'd done enough damage for one night. He wasn't about to explain how Lionel would be strutting through the mansion; how he usually acted after he'd landed a particularly difficult... conquest. No fifteen-year-old-boy needed to hear that, let alone about their own mother.

Lex pulled Clark into a hug, and Clark hugged him right back, and they clung to each other for awhile.

Clark was worried about what would happen while his parents tried to get through this.

Lex was worried about what would happen if they didn't.

Because Martha...

...was dangerous.

Possibly moreso than Lionel.

Would she want revenge for his role in breaking up her marriage, if it came to that?

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Lex?"

Lex blinked awake and stirred slowly.

"...Clark?" he said groggily, as he levered himself upright. Why was Clark in his bedroom, seated at the foot of his bed?

And why did he look so nervous?

Lex frowned and glanced over at his closed bedroom door as he heard noise out in the hallway. Noise on par with when his father had moved in.

He glanced over at his clock. It was 7 o'clock in the morning. _\--What the hell?_

"Clark, what's wrong? What are you doing here?" he asked, turning back to his younger teenaged friend in some confusion. Was Lionel moving out? That didn't explain Clark's presence in his room that morning, before he was even awake and dressed...

The door to his bedroom was unceremoniously shoved open, and Mrs. Kent poked her head inside.

"Clark! There you are!" she said, then frowned slightly as she quickly scanned the room and saw Lex. "Lex. Make yourself presentable, and the both of you come to breakfast, _now_."

And then she pulled the door closed behind her.

Lex stared at the door.

He turned and looked at Clark.

"...Clark?" he asked. "What's going on?"

Clark wrung his hands and dropped his eyes. He didn't look any less nervous.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Lex may not have had any coffee yet that morning, but as he walked down the hallway with Clark and noticed that the mansion staff seemed to be bringing things _into_ the mansion, rather than _removing_ them, he began to get a sneaking suspicion...

He looked at Clark's broad back, intent on puzzling out what he could from his friend as Clark lead the way to the dining room.

Clark's shoulders tensed up as he seemed to notice Lex's sudden attention, but he pretty much pretended to ignore Lex, otherwise refusing to give him any form of direct attention at all.

Lex tried and failed several times in rapid succession to receive a verbal response from him and, finally, irritated in the extreme, gave up with attempting to be oblique about things, only coming at them from an angle.

Instead, Lex grabbed Clark's arm, pulling him to a halt, and went for the direct approach again.

"Clark, why are you and your mother here at the mansion?" he asked outright.

Clark stopped, turned slightly, and seemed to be fighting with himself.

"Clark?"

Clark finally turned enough to face him, and his expression was utterly morose.

"You were wrong," he said flatly, and then he opened the door to the dining room and pushed his way in.

Lex let his hand fall in shock.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Lex hadn't yet given Lionel his decision as to whether he would stay on, to work for his father again, or not, but after that morning's breakfast, he'd become very sure of what his final decision should be.

_Act as another mindless drone, working hard for you like a good little employee? --No. I **don't** think so._

If Lex hadn't had lessons in proper deportment from the time he was six, he'd surely have had a raging temper-tantrum right in the middle of the damn dining room, twenty-two years of age or not. Lionel was already acting like Martha was his new "mother", Martha was acting cooly towards them both, but not _coldly_ like she _should_ have been, damn it, and Clark...

God, Lex wished he could've sat next to Clark, or across from him, or even _near_ him. The damn dining room table was just too large, and the place settings had already been laid out; it would have drawn too much unwanted attention from Lionel if Lex had done what he'd wanted and moved himself down closer to Clark. Thus, Lex hadn't had a chance to try and talk with him, or reassure him, or, well, _anything_ to try and calm him down. _Doesn't Martha see what she's doing to him? Clark's a nervous wreck!_

Lionel hadn't even bothered to _ask_ whether Lex was coming back to work for him or not. And it wasn't as though he could tell from Lex's facial expressions or outward demeanor -- he was still blind. No, Lionel had just assumed that this was so, like it was a done-deal, and talked about it that way -- _openly_ \-- in front of both the two (ex-?)Kents and the staff, alike. Lex doubted that Lionel could have read anything to the contrary from his tone, though, given that he had barely exchanged two words with the man about anything during the meal.

When Lex was dismissed -- dismissed! -- from the table, and told to go get ready for his 'new old job', Lex stalked off in a mood. Clark was hurried off to school by one of the staff before Lex was thinking clearly enough to double-back and offer him a ride. Lex was kicking himself for his idiocy at that missed opportunity.

So when he re-entered his rooms, he was in a downright black state of mind.

He stood in the center of his room for a moment, took one look around, then sucked in a deep breath. He turned decisively, opened the doors to his walk-in closet, and grabbed his suitcases.

 _I'm not staying here another minute. Not another minute,_ he thought viciously. Because he now knew the reason Lionel had fired Martha -- he never had liaisons with people who worked for him. ...Then Lex thought of Rachel Dunleavy, cursed, and revised that to _serious_ liaisons. _I'm not staying in the same house with them while they're..._

Lex shuddered at the thought, then banished it to the back of his mind and started to pack.

He didn't know what to do about Clark. He couldn't just--

...actually, no, there **was** _something_ he could do, wasn't there?

Lex smiled grimly, and snapped the suitcases shut.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Lex sat down on the front steps to the Kent farmhouse, and punched a fist into the deck, before bringing up a palm to his forehead to try and soothe away the burgeoning headache ...or at least distract himself from it by focusing on the throbbing in his hands, instead. He'd spent the last five minutes or so banging on the front door, all to no avail, to the point that his hands were now hurting.

_Damn it, why won't he open the door?!_

...Probably because Lex was the evil Luthor spawn of the man who had stolen his wife. Damnit.

Lex sat there for a bit, cursing tiredly under his breath, then looked up, startled, as he heard the sound of an approaching engine.

He blinked as he saw the battered old pickup truck come up to the drive, and watched it pull up to a stop next to his sleek little sportscar, which looked almost childish by comparison.

He slowly dropped his hands and straightened slightly, then covered a wince as Jonathan Kent climbed down out of the cab and banged the door shut.

"I take it that Mrs.--" Lex swallowed. "That... Martha didn't take the truck as part of her half," Lex called out to him lowly. Given the sheer amount of _stuff_ that the staff had been moving into the mansion for her, she'd certainly taken _most_ of it already, though. And the look Jonathan gave him had Lex stilling where he was seated on the hard wood planks, but not because he looked angry...

"No, she didn't," Jonathan said as he walked up the sidewalk. "Didn't want it, in point of fact." He shrugged. "I needed it more than she did. She took some other things instead." He came to a stop in front of Lex. "It's only fair."

Lex had to fight the urge to laugh. It wasn't funny.

"What do you want, Luthor?" Jonathan challenged him, tilting his head up slightly. "Clark's not--"

"Clark and Martha are up at the mansion," Lex told him quickly, standing. Then he realized that that wasn't quite true. "Or... well, Clark is at school by now, rather--"

"Yes, I know," Jonathan cut in, and Lex paused, startled. "So why are you here?"

Lex started again. "I--" He looked away and grimaced, shoved his hands into his pockets. "I didn't realize you knew where they were."

"And?"

Lex frowned at him.

"That it?"

"...Yes."

"Hm. Really." There was a pause as they stared at each other. "Well, then. I guess you can go on and get yourself off to work, then," Jonathan added, pointing a thumb over his shoulder.

And then the man climbed the stairs, opened the screen door, and unlocked the inner door and went inside.

Lex turned towards him, watching as he walked on by, right past him. Lex winced as the screen door slammed shut freely. He stood there for a moment. He turned away from the door and glanced over at the swing on the front porch, stared down at the stairs, shifting in place. Then he slid his hands out of his pockets, grimaced, and stomped up the stairs and onto the porch. And after pulling a sharp breath in he kept going, yanking open the screen door to walk straight into the house -- Jonathan hadn't closed the front door, after all, so why shouldn't he follow? Hell, that was practically an invitation in these parts, wasn't it?

Lex glanced down the front hall as he came in, frowning at the mess, then took a quick left into the living room. He flinched and came to a halt, staring around at all the vacant holes and now-bare places where furniture and pictures and books and all the other comfortable errata that made up a home had obviously used to be. He looked up, and saw Jonathan was in the kitchen, going through the cabinets.

Lex let out a quick breath, and moved forward. "So, what, that's it?" he spat out. "You're okay with this?" he said, waving an arm to encompass the whirlwind state of the house.

"You aren't?" Jonathan asked, raising an eyebrow. He straightened, turned, and slapped an unopened bottle of rum down onto the kitchen table.

Lex stared as Jonathan unscrewed the cap. "It's not even nine o'clock!" he blurted out, almost a protest. Jonathan hadn't ever seemed like the kind of man who-- But then, he **had** been found dead drunk after-- _Wait._ "--What the hell do you mean, 'why aren't I'?"

Jonathan eyed him as he set down the bottle cap. "I've seen the way you look at Martha," he began, picking up the bottle of hard liquor and pouring himself half a glass. "I know you want her for a mother."

Lex swallowed, hard.

"And I've been up since four, dealing with the move," Jonathan said reasonably, putting the bottle back down with a thump. "I think a man's allowed to get himself a bit drunk when his wife is leaving him, don't you?"

Lex narrowed his eyes at Jonathan, and when the farmer picked up the glass of liquor, Lex leaned forward over the table and plucked it from his hand. He set it down firmly in front of him. "Not when you haven't lost her yet." Lex couldn't believe that everything had fallen apart so quickly.

Jonathan gave him a long, tired look. "I spent all night hashing it out with her. She wants a divorce, plain and simple. So unless you've got an idea for fixing things and changing her mind..." Jonathan trailed off with a shrug.

"So, what, you're just giving up?" Lex said, voice shaking slightly.

"A body can't make somebody love them, Luthor," Jonathan said, looking him dead in the eye. "Let alone enough to stay with them. And I'm not about to try and _force_ her to stay," he ground out, angry but adamant.

Then Jonathan took a swig of cheap rum straight from the bottle while Lex stared.

And then he smiled at Lex in amusement. "No need to stand on ceremony with no womenfolk about. The glass was for _you_ , Luthor," he said, gesturing with the bottle end at the glass.

Lex glared at the poured liquor, met Jonathan's eyes, grabbed the glass and downed it all at once.

\--Oh, **god**.

It took sheer effort of will not to cough it all back up again.

"That... was..."

"--eye-wateringly, blisteringly awful?" Jonathan put forth dryly, still-smiling. "Fits the mood?"

"Awful," Lex rasped in partial agreement, putting the glass down. He'd had worse...

...but not by much.

Jonathan _laughed_ at him, then leaned back against the counter.

"What bug crawled up _your_ butt, Luthor?" Jonathan said, rotating the bottle of rum by the neck. "You're looking like somebody killed your favorite parakeet and you're out for revenge."

"It's _your_ damn rum," Lex snapped out, barely managing to choke as the aftertaste hit. "You want to be a pirate, go find an eyepatch and a ship to steal."

Jonathan stared at him for a moment.

"What?" Lex said in irritation.

Jonathan started to laugh uproariously, slapping a hand against the counter, and when the man was finally done half-suffocating himself and wiping away the tears, he said, with a wide grin, "Damn, son, what do you think I was taking care of this morning before the movers came?"

Lex stared at him in total noncomprehension.

Jonathan looked like he wanted to burst into laughter again, but just waved it off instead. "Forget it, Lex. It's a... family thing," he said, his mouth twisting slightly. "Something I needed to do for Clark."

Lex was not amused. "And what would Clark say if I asked him why you suddenly decided to run around pirating ships for him?" he asked sarcastically, rubbing at his forehead.

Jonathan glanced up at him, eyebrows going up. He took another swig of rum. "Well, I guess he'd look confused, then probably be all shocked and stammer a bit, and then get exasperated and frown, and then calm down and think it wasn't funny at all."

Well, that was weird. He'd actually gotten a straight answer out of the man. Sort of. --Because that _did_ sound like the usual sort of Clark reaction to a secret he knew that he didn't think anyone else should know...

"...But Clark wouldn't tell me."

"Nope."

"And if I asked you why the hell you needed to steal a ship for him, when the farm isn't anywhere near water...?" The closest navigable river was the Mississippi, and Metropolis was the nearest port city on it.

"I'd tell you that it wasn't any of your business," Jonathan told him in reasonable tones, with a sidelong look.

...Why did that not feel like the slap in the face it should have been?

He watched Jonathan take another short swig of rum, eyeing him.

Lex suddenly didn't know what to do with his hands, so he slid them into his pockets and glanced away.

"Where the hell would you even _get_ a ship around here, anyway?" Lex muttered, wondering if Jonathan was actually being serious with him; the entire idea was ludicrous.

"Oh, you'd be surprised," Jonathan said in an odd tone with no small humor laced through it. But then he turned slightly to his side to set the bottle of rum on the counter, before turning back to Lex and standing upright. "So. We gonna get to why you're here anytime soon?"

Lex scowled at him. "I told you--"

"--You're not actually going back to work for Lionel, are you," Jonathan cut in good-naturedly, not really a question, crossing his arms and looking Lex over with a slight smile on his face.

"What makes you say that?" Lex said smoothly, his brain suddenly on high alert with multiple emotions vying for supremacy, chief among them caution and suspicion and... well, he'd label it paranoia, but, honestly, it was probably more _stubbornness_ than anything if he was honest with himself. He'd never really understood why he always felt like digging in his heels and being contrary as hell with Mr. Kent, especially when he felt it worse with this man than he ever had with his own father.

Jonathan simply shrugged. Even more alarmingly, Jonathan didn't even seem all that _smug_ about it. Lex could think of a great many reasons why Jonathan should be smug about Lionel not getting along with Lex... or perhaps vice-versa. But. He _wasn't_. Smug. Damnit.

So in response to Jonathan's non-question, Lex gave a non-answer. "Why wouldn't I be?" _Wouldn't anyone else give in?_

"Because you aren't," Jonathan said in that same reasonable tone, and why the _hell_ was that getting to him so badly? "He pissed you off, didn't he." Which also was not a question _\--dammit!_

Lex narrowed his eyes. "He pisses me off a lot," Lex said neutrally. "He pisses off a lot of people." _That doesn't mean they wouldn't go back to work for him when presented with no other real option._

"... _Are_ we gonna get to why you're here anytime soon?" Jonathan said with a chuckle and a knowing grin.

\--not that there was anything _to_ know. --Seriously, what the hell was wrong with Clark's father?!?

"Why the hell do you even think I'm not working for him, anyway?"

Jonathan sighed and eyed him, then seemed to take pity on him. "You're here."

"So?!"

Jonathan made a show of checking his watch. "It's nine-thirteen in the morning," he said. "You're always at the factory by nine-sharp."

Lex stared at him.

"You're also drinking," Jonathan continued, nodding at the now-empty glass on the kitchen table right in front of him, "when you'd have to drive yourself over after even if you were going to be late, when you haven't driven drunk since arriving in Smallville." He leaned back a bit against the counter. "You just found out that you've lost LexCorp to Lionel," he added, with a deep sigh, "not even six months after damn near selling your soul to buy half the place out from under him and convince half the town to go with you, and get yourself and everybody else out from under the bastard in the process." He got a thin-lipped smile. "You got a taste of freedom, and you're stubborn as hell. You're not going down without a fight; not on this one."

...Okay. _That_ felt like a slap across the face.

"You've also got luggage in your car," Jonathan added, his thin-lipped smile getting wider. "You can't even stand to stay in the same mansion with the man right now."

Lex brutally ignored the rest of it and decided to focus on: "How the _hell_ do you know my work schedule habits?!" _Let alone that LexCorp isn't **mine** anymore. You were in a goddamn prison cell most of the day yesterday, and probably arguing with your-- with _ Martha _the rest of the-- **Fuck!** If it's all over town--!_

"Clark talks about you," Jonathan said blandly. "A lot." It came off as more than a little long-suffering, and maybe ever-so-slightly bemused.

"Why." _...What the hell, Clark? Were you **trying** to pick fights with your dad?_

"Dunno. For some reason, my boy feels the need to try and convince me that you're some kind of upstanding individual," Jonathan informed him. He gave him another of those thin smiles. "You need better PR."

Lex fought the urge to groan, because that was just _so_ fucking **wrong** on _**so**_ many levels.

"So," Jonathan said reasonably, taking a seat at the table. "Why are you here, and what are you going to do about it?"

And, god help him, the next thing Lex knew, he was sitting down at the table across from Jonathan Kent himself, head in his hands, describing how well and truly fucked over he was, with how Lionel had gone behind his back buying out a good majority of the other slightly-more-than-fifty-percent of LexCorp's voting shareholders.

"He must have blackmailed them," Lex muttered. "It's bad enough that he bought out the damn bank, so that if any of them had missed a mortgage payment, after using those loans to help buy in..." Lex shook his head. "And now this..."

Jonathan frowned. "Who told you he bought out Smallville Savings and Loan?" he said dubiously.

Lex looked up at Jonathan incredulously. "He did."

"And you just believed him?" Jonathan said, leaning back in his chair, eyeing Lex.

Lex sat there staring at the man, dumbfounded, because why in the hell would Lionel lie about...?

"Luthor, if he owns the town bank, I'm moving my money and the farm's mortgage," Jonathan said seriously. "Today."

Lex covered a wince. "Better get on that, then," he said, looking away.

Jonathan stared at him, then ran a hand through his hair and sighed, sitting forward again. "What're you gonna do about the factory; do you know?"

"If Lionel wants to shut it down" -- _again_ \-- "I can't buy it out," Lex said. "I don't have the money for it."

"So?" Jonathan snorted. "You telling me you don't have anything to liquidate?"

Lex looked up at him and couldn't keep the frown off of his face. "I don't own the mansion..." He couldn't use or sell his or his mother's LuthorCorp shares, either -- he'd already leveraged them as collateral for the majority of his near-half of the buyout of the plant, along with nearly everything else he owned. He wasn't even sure that anyone would even want to buy the damn medieval plot out in the middle of nowhere if he _had_ owned it, let alone put up with Lionel's machinations to get it back shortly thereafter. Lex wouldn't wish that on his worst enemy, let alone whatever poor clueless halfwit he'd have to be selling to to get away with it, though it might have been worth it to attempt as a obfuscating move to distract Lionel for a bit. ...Good thing it _wasn't_ his to sell, then.

It had also only been a few months since the plant had been operating in the free-and-clear. Not having wanted to commit another large expenditure yet with the volatility of the company early-on, Lex had held off on drawing a normal salary for a man of his position at LexCorp these first few months. Immediately preceding that, he'd used almost every last penny he'd had on the original very risky buyout. What reduced salaried income he had drawn hadn't gone to replenishing his accounts in the interim, either; rather, the majority of it had gone into starting to pay down the bank loan he'd taken out for his part of the plant buyout, but it was a far cry from paid off. He had no usable backup funds. What else was there?

Jonathan gave him a look. "You could sell your cars."

Lex stared at him blankly.

Then he felt a headache forming behind his eyes.

"That's not enough," Lex told him, because it wouldn't be, not even if he sold every last one. The fact that the older model sports cars he'd bought depreciated in value almost by half each year didn't help, but even if he'd been smart enough to have saved the sums he'd gotten from Lionel every birthday since he'd been old enough to drive, instead of effectively squandering it -- no matter how much he loved his cars and enjoyed driving them, it really hadn't been an objectively good use of his money -- it still would have barely made even the slightest dent in the amount he'd have had to put up if he was trying to buy out the other fifty-one percent. He held other property, but not much. Even selling every last thing he owned, including all of his Warrior Angel memorabilia, he would still fall far short of the amount necessary.

...This, of course, assumed that the factory went the way of a private sale instead of an open-market bid, because lord knew how many people would want the place now that it was more solidly profitable, in the black for two-going-on-three quarters of earnings now, and how much any open-market bidding wars would drive up the price. --Not to mention the newly-inked contracts that were going to keep it in supplies and business enough for baseline operations firmly in the black for at least two years, possibly out to five as things stood, which would make the company even more desirable to early investors.

Shit. Small wonder his father had wanted it so badly that he'd pissed off Dominic, then blackmailed the entire LexCorp board, the town sheriff, and who knows who else in order to get it. Lex had gotten the factory turned around and in the black in less than a year, and _then_ had made contracts that had made the factory into a solid investment in less than six months after that, despite his father's interference. Beyond that, Lionel could either convince Lex to keep working at the factory as he had been and turn out even more profit for him and LuthorCorp, or sell the factory for far more than he would have been able to when he'd first meant to close down the plant, before Lex had managed to put through the original buy out. Simply put, no matter what he ended up deciding to do, _Lionel couldn't lose._

Damn him. -- _Damn him!_

"Then don't sell just your cars," Jonathan said, startling Lex out of his thoughts.

Lex frowned up at him. "What else is there?" He wasn't a pauper by any means -- he had a few other petty investments and cash reserves left that he could liquidate if he had to and live off of quite comfortably, but even those were dwarfed by the relative worth of his cars.

"Well," Jonathan said, leaning back in his chair lazily, "how much is your pride worth?"

Lex stared at the old farmer, then narrowed his eyes.

" _Explain_ ," he said.

Jonathan shrugged and stood up slowly. "Well, seems to me that the fact that they're _your_ cars ought to be worth more than just the cars themselves." He got a fleeting smile, and took on a not-quite-mocking tone. "After all, must be worth a fortune, an _actual_ car that that Lex Luthor of those _Metropolis Luthors_ used to own." He turned away and plucked the coffee pot on the counter out of the coffeemaker and poured himself a cup. "'Course, if someone wanted it hand-delivered, what-have-you, and was willing to pay more for the privilege of you being the one to do it, bow and scrape and whatever in thanks..." He picked up the cup and took a draft of it, looking over the rim at Lex as he did so. "Think on it."

Lex huffed out a breath, a little appalled at the thought, but he could already think of at least two or three individuals from Excelsior -- and one bullying blonde-haired individual in particular -- who _would_ , in fact, pay **very** good money to see him act just like that, bowing and scraping and eating crow.

He grimaced at the thought, but... he considered it.

Then he huffed out another short breath as Jonathan poured then passed him a mug of coffee of his own. "And what about the people who might be happy to pay extra without any 'special service'," he asked sardonically as he accepted the mug, not that he could think of any such a person offhand.

"Ask 'em for a loan, because they're your friends," Jonathan said seriously, not batting an eyelash.

Lex blinked.

Jonathan saluted him with his mug.

Lex belatedly did the same, with more than a little confusion. He watched the old man with some bemusement as they each cut the alcohol they'd consumed with nearly-undiluted caffeine, down the hatch and straight down to their guts.

 _As black as it comes,_ Lex thought as he stared down into his half-empty mug and suppressed a grimace at the bitter taste. "When the hell did you get so business-savvy?" He asked as he took another draught of the stuff. _And why the hell is your farm in such debt if you can think up this sort of bullshit?_ ...Then again, Jonathan Kent was a stubborn, prideful man. And putting theory to practice was another matter entirely.

"Well, I took the same finance course in college as Martha did," Jonathan said, sitting himself down at the table again with a sigh. "Passed with higher scores, too," he said with a slight smile. "Think that was more to do with Martha studying less than I did, though. Smart woman." He took another quaff of his coffee. "Might have taken me longer to get my degree, taking night classes towards the end, and working most days pitching in on the farm, but I _did_ get it."

Lex frowned slightly and straightened. He hadn't realized the man had gone to college; Jonathan had never seemed particularly... _what? Educated? Open-minded? Not everyone in the Ivy Leagues was, either,_ Lex realized.

"--What did you major in?" he asked, curious, as he put down his mug.

"Agricultural engineering," Jonathan put out there, with a shrug.

"For the farm?" Lex asked, mostly rhetorically.

...at least he'd _thought_ it was rhetorical, except Jonathan let out a barking laugh and exclaimed, "Hell no!" with more than a little amusement.

Lex blinked and leaned away a little, taken aback.

"Then..." _why?_

"A body doesn't need a college degree to _farm_ , Luthor -- just common sense, stubbornness, a bit of know-how, an able body, and a willingness to do hard work, day in and day out." Jonathan seemed to smile at something in Lex's careful non-reaction. "I wanted more."

"...More?"

"You think that anybody who can get themselves a degree grows up aspiring to being a farmer all their long life?" Jonathan asked, chuckling to himself as he took another swig of coffee from his mug.

Honestly? Lex couldn't _see_ Jonathan Kent as anything but a farmer. But the way he was putting it... like _that_...

"You wanted... a larger farm?"

Jonathan laughed again, a relaxed sort of laugh, then sat back and gave Lex a long, almost sad look.

"Son, I wanted out of town. And I was aiming to do it."

It took Lex a few seconds to process that. He blamed the early-morning alcohol -- he certainly couldn't blame the coffee. "--Get out."

Jonathan shook his head.

Lex frowned, not understanding. "Then what _stopped_ you?" The man was certainly stubborn enough for it, even if Lex had the feeling the city would have eaten him alive shortly thereafter.

_...Then again..._

"Same thing that had me turning down a full football scholarship to Met-U," Jonathan said, to Lex's growing sick amazement, because if this was some idiotic platitude about paying his own way and not accepting 'charity'--

"My old man got sick, and I decided to stick close to home, help out with the farm." Jonathan sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Couldn't do that if I was running off all the time on away games, let alone the full-time classes and the team training schedule on top of that."

"Oh." Lex stopped and considered that. "I take it you were expected to?" _Some sense of familial duty?_ Stupid, but he could respect that.

Jonathan snorted. "No. My old man damn near kicked my ass for it," he said, shaking his head. "Passing that opportunity up to take care of things here -- he hated it, needing the help, and after awhile I resented the hell out of him for it because he didn't want me here and made it _real_ damn clear every chance he got." He grimaced a little, and took another sip of coffee. "Idiot wouldn't accept help from damn near anyone, let alone me. Not for this. Stuck in his craw because he felt like he was robbing me of my education. Things went sour for a long, long time between us."

Lex took in a slow, deep breath.

He swallowed.

Then he said, "Clark..."

"--won't be falling into the same trap I did," Jonathan said firmly. "I'm perfectly fit and I'm careful. I won't be making any dumb mistakes around the farm that'll get me half-killed." He tipped his mug up and finished off his coffee, then set it down with some finality. "I may not let him slack on his chores, but I make sure he's got the time to do his schoolwork, and I don't let him do more around here than he should be taking on."

Lex let out a breath. "Good to know."

Jonathan grinned at him. "Hell, Luthor, he might make it out of town long before you manage it again."

Lex blinked at him.

"Christ, Luthor, how stupid do you think I am?" Jonathan asked him, looking at him askance. "I may be a dumb old farmer from the sticks, but even I can see that this town's too damn small for him. He's better than all this," he said, waving a hand around at the farmhouse around him. "And he'll be moving on to bigger and better things soon enough. Clark may not know it yet, may not think about anything past next week's homework and his exams coming up right now, but Martha and I are well aware," he said dryly. He fixed Lex with a hard look. "I know you've seen it in him, too." He sat back in his chair. "And we've been saving up for him to go to college for a long time." 

"Then why the hell do you have such a problem with me wanting to spend time with him?" Lex demanded. Clark could stand to have a little more exposure to people from outside the closed close-knit set of people in town. In some respects he was horrifyingly naive, moreso at fifteen than Lex had been at _nine_ , for god's sake. If he didn't learn some things soon... Lex shuddered to think of all the myriad ways that an overly trusting Clark could be taken advantage of oh-so-painfully by the wide, cold and uncaring world.

Jonathan looked at him flatly. "For one thing, you're too old for him."

" _Every_ adult is older than him," Lex pointed out, "and he's very responsible, even for his background." _More so than I was at his age, certainly._ Most farm-kids were to start with, but Clark was a step beyond even that. "He could benefit from having more peer interactions with adults outside of school."

Jonathan suddenly skewered him with a look that made him want to squirm. " _Son_ ," he drawled out, "before today, when was the last time you've ever said 'no' to your father?"

That seemed to come out of nowhere, and Lex flinched as though he'd been struck. Then Lex gritted his teeth and barely managed to hold onto calm, because how _dare_ he--! "Besides the ongoing fight over the factory, you mean?"

"He actually tell you not to do it?"

Lex forgot how to breathe for a long, scary moment.

"...No," Lex finally admitted under his breath. "He told me he was shutting down the factory, and I submitted the buyout bid while he was in the hospital when he couldn't stop it." And... that didn't quite count, did it? Not if he couldn't hold on to it, after the fact.

"Any other time?"

Lex opened his mouth to say 'the layoffs last year' ...but he had to close it again without saying anything. Even he knew that his father had been testing him, had _let_ him get away with doing things his way, had been inexplicably _pleased_ about it, what had really amounted to nothing but a testing of boundaries by Lex. As much as Lionel had derided Lex's 'smart bookkeeping', Lionel had also seemed to thoroughly enjoy trouncing him at the fencing, at ordering him about, at his struggles to come up with a viable alternative... that Lionel could have undone with one simple phone call if he'd wanted to.

How had he _ever_ considered going back to work for the man for a single second?

The silence drew out.

"Thought so," Jonathan said. "Bet you didn't quite spit in his eye coming over here, either."

"He'll figure it out sooner or later, I'm sure," Lex said lowly, crossing his arms. "Or... maybe he won't," he ended with a outward smirk, and an internal snarl.

"...And you wonder why I don't want you hanging around Clark?" Jonathan said with a snort.

Lex tensed.

But Jonathan wasn't done, not by a long shot. "You've got Lionel shadowing your every step, you give in to him without a thought..." Jonathan shook his head, and shoved himself out of his chair. He picked up his coffee cup and headed for the sink. "I don't want Clark exposed to Lionel. You've refused to distance yourself from the man -- and I use that term loosely -- but then you come over here all the time, subjecting Clark to... your whole family situation," he waved a hand at him. "And yet my having a problem with you pulling Clark into your problems with Lionel... --This is surprising to you?"

Lex shifted uneasily, as Jonathan turned away to dump the cup in the sink, before turning back to face Lex.

"You going to tell me you _don't_ want to be like your father, next?" Jonathan continued. "That you _don't_ look up to him, don't want his approval?"

Lex's mouth dropped open in horror. "N--!" But the negation caught in his throat.

Lex's eyes widened as he realized that--

He shot to his feet, angry beyond measure, because--

"--He's my father!" _Of course I do!_ Except he didn't. --But he did about some things. --Lionel was _so_ ruthless in his business dealings, and he **always won** \-- Lex _had_ to admire him for it, for the sheer audacity if nothing else, but... damnit, Lex didn't want to be like that! Some of Lionel's methods -- like the blackmail of good people to get his way -- absolutely disgusted Lex, and he didn't want to _have_ to--! --But it **was** _necessary_ sometimes, wasn't it?

...Wasn't it?

But Lex also knew that his father was an utter bastard, and...

No. That didn't matter. None of that made Lionel any less his father, so how could it be wrong for Lex to want...

\--how _dare_ this goddamn _farmer_ act like he knew him -- knew _them_ \-- standing on the outside looking in. How could Jonathan stand there and have the sheer audacity to act like he knew how completely twisted up inside Lex felt about all this, being pulled in half, in two completely opposing directions, when--

"Does the man **deserve** your respect?" Jonathan pressed him.

Lex felt himself pale.

"Do you _want_ to give it to him?" Jonathan asked just as blandly.

" _ **Shut up!!**_ " Lex spat out, then paled further and backed up two steps.

Jonathan watched him calmly, too too calmly.

Lex wanted to punch something. _Hard._

He turned his back on Clark's father and stomped away into the living room, running a hand over his head, that old nervous tic of his surfacing again under the stress of the situation.

"Luthor," he heard Jonathan say tiredly behind him, "You've got problems."

Lex whirled around, turning on him. "Starting with the damn factory he's pulled out from under my feet!" Lex spat out, flicking a hand in the direction of said shit factory. "Tell me something I don't know!"

Jonathan looked at him levelly.

"All the creamed corn the factory ever produced was made from corn shipped in from out of town," Jonathan told him.

Lex froze, his thoughts completely derailed, and stared at the man.

"...What?"

"None of the Smallville farms grow sweet corn for commercial sale here, not for a long, long time. Only field corn."

Lex blinked at him.

He had the sudden hysterical urge to laugh because, well, that _was_ something he hadn't known, wasn't it?

"That's... _crazy_ ," Lex said, because, really--

"What, you thought the factory was there because of the farmers in town?" Jonathan sighed, shaking his head. "Not us. It was just in a central location for the rest of their suppliers, and in a town near Metropolis -- which is the midwest region's central shipping magnate -- but not so close to the city that the land would be worth more than the factory itself." He shrugged. "And then the town expanded, and so did the city, and..."

"Why don't you grow sweet corn?" Lex asked, feeling a little faint, and a little off-balance, and groping for something to say. After all... Well, they grew all sorts of other organic produce -- why not that? The weather and ground here were perfect for it ...wasn't it?

Jonathan snorted. "For one thing, it's a glut on the markets come harvest-time, so it doesn't sell for much profit, especially 'round these parts." Okay, Lex could understand that -- they lived in the corn belt, after all. "For another, the cattle come first. Even if we get a bad harvest one year, if we plant feed corn instead of sweet corn, we can still get enough crop yield out of the fields to feed the cattle, even if we're hurting for funds."

Lex frowned at him.

"Look," Jonathan said. "I don't know how you do it in Metropolis, but out here in farm country..." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "You can get a short-term loan to make repairs on farm equipment, or to rent some. That's a good investment for them -- the bank can look at the fields, check the yield, look at the season's weather forecasts, know whether or not you'll be able to pay 'em back, and make the call. But a body can't walk into a bank and get a loan to feed their cattle until the next growing season comes 'round; that'll get you laughed out of town! Most expect you to sell the herd when that happens, and that's not good planning, one way or the other," Jonathan told him.

Jonathan sighed at his stare and continued. "Making sure we've got enough to eat for the cows and for ourselves are the two main things we have to deal with, around here, Luthor. Growing field corn for cattle feed, and wheat for straw and flour, means we can do that. Livestock's a good investment, but it's not a good sell until it's ready for the butcher, and that's years of grazing and tonnage keeping 'em fed over the winter months. You have a bad crop year, then probably everybody else did, too, and you may not be able to _find_ anybody willing to sell you their extra silage, at any price. Especially not if there _isn't_ any."

Lex took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "I hadn't thought..." He trailed off, then glanced away. The way Jonathan was talking about it so dispassionately, so matter-of-factly... It sounded like an actual business, and Lex had known that, that technically farming **was** a business, _intellectually_ , but...

He mentally searched for solid ground, and could only come up with: "My mother used to own a ranch in Montana." He paused, almost shocked with himself for sharing that, but then kept going -- he couldn't really stop there. "We spent summers there, pitching in on the property, up until..." _she died_ , and Lex shied around the thought. "The last time I was there... I was twelve. I knew they grew corn and wheat and harvested it up in bales, but..." He'd never really understood the idea behind it, the planning it must have involved. It had never occurred to him that they were farming it for the animals -- the horses they were raising -- instead of selling it on the side for profit.

"Maybe they did sell it," Jonathan said. "Upscale farms, especially horse farms... they're different. The horses eats oats and barley, more often than not. They might've kept some of the straw for the stalls come winter, but if they were thoroughbred stock they'd be worth the upkeep costs, just from the breeding rights." He scratched at the back of his head. "Could've traded it to their feed supplier to help bring down the costs for the feed they wanted, maybe."

"Who does that?" Lex asked, mystified.

"...What, barter? Trade for stuff?" Jonathan tilted his head and leaned back against the counter easily. "Most farms, actually, with other farms. No money changing hands means no taxes on what you're trading. You do folks a favor, helping out with something, they pay you back in produce or baked goods. Things like that," he shrugged. "You don't have to put a price on everything, Luthor," he said.

Lex frowned furiously. "I wasn't! I just--" He felt frustrated, searching for words. It was a new thought for him. "How do you know if it's fair?" he asked, then stifled a wince. "A fair trade, I mean."

"Depends on what something's worth to somebody," Jonathan told him. "Hell, you go to two different stores in the same town and sometimes they're selling the same thing for a different price. It's capitalism," Jonathan said, "It's not all that 'what the market will bear' bull-shit. It's how bad you want something and what you're willing to do to get it, or give up for it, and whether the person who's got it wants something else that they don't have that you do, and what _they're_ willing to give to get it, and what you both decide to compromise on. Sometimes it's money, but it doesn't have to be," and Lex felt weird, getting schooled like this, by someone with such a different outlook on things, like life in general.

"That almost sounds like brokering contracts with suppliers," Lex muttered with a frown, because that really was the closest experience he could think of for this. One of the companies produced some chemicals that LexCorp had needed for the fertilizer plant, while some of the by-products of the fertilizer process were needed by another plant for a different chemical process by the same company. They'd ended up brokering two contracts at once, and evening out the price difference.

That was one thing. But Lex had _never_ thought of walking into a store to buy something as being like a... old-world bartering session, because when did anyone ever have to _bargain_ over the price of something at a department store or tailor or coffee shop or, well, _any_ store with a price-tag on things? In Lex's experience, a product had a price, a set monetary value -- a cost that was the same for _everyone_.

...unless you had a large purchasing contract in place, or had a special relationship with the supplier, or you had a credit for a previous purchase...

...which, come to think of it, sounded a lot like 'buying in bulk', or a 'discount' for favoritism because someone was a friend, or because you had 'clipped coupons' (as Clark had told him about) to lower the price...

...or because someone owed you a favor and you were collecting on it...

"I suppose you could think of it like a formal contract -- only better, because no lawyers," Jonathan chuckled. "If it's a big, formal transaction, part of your business, for something worth a lot, then yes -- you need to keep records, and the government wants their share, but the IRS really doesn't care about the small stuff. Not when you're just being neighborly, and know you'll square it later sometime," he shrugged off. Then he gave Lex a considering look. "Why don't you ask them about it?"

"Ask who what?"

"Those ranchers. Why don't you ask 'em what the crops are for? If they sell it, and who to?" Jonathan asked. "They've got phones in Montana, don't they? Shouldn't you know how they're running the place for you?"

Lex started, then felt a wave of discontent. Mr. Kent had had an edge to his voice at the last that Lex hadn't particularly liked. The assumption he'd made rankled, too.

"The ranch was my mother's," Lex said. His family's, but really his mother's, when it came down to it. "My d-- father, Lionel, sold it, after..." he trailed off, sliding his hands into his pockets.

"Hm," said Jonathan.

"Where the hell did you learn all of this from, anyway?" Lex groused. _The Kansas country air?_ "You can't have just gotten all that from just one introductory college-level course in finance."

"Life experience out here in the sticks, mostly, and a couple of finance classes," Jonathan told him with a shrug, and Lex thought _a couple?!?_. His face must've shown something, because Jonathan continued with, "I didn't take just the one. I already knew how to farm," and followed it up with, "I wanted to know how to run things better, and I thought the financial courses were interesting."

"So you took a... _couple_ of them?" Lex said, feeling off-balance all over again. 'A couple' -- that _had_ to be more than just two. _How many do they have? And, more importantly..._ "What all did they cover?" _Am I missing something I need to know?_

"Didn't you have to take at least one finance course for your fancy degree?" Jonathan said, looking surprised, interrupting his thoughts.

"My bachelor's degree was in biochemical engineering," Lex told him, and it made him twitch, to realize that technically Jonathan had taken more formal business-related coursework than he himself had had in his schooling.

"You haven't been working on an MBA?" Jonathan asked, frowning in concern.

"Gabe's been teaching me things." Yes, all he had was on-the-job training, but-- "I've been busy running the plant!" Lex shot back defensively. _And I've done a good job of it, too!_ ...Well, right up until Lionel had undermined him, but it wasn't like some business school course could teach him how not to get railroaded by Lionel Luthor! _How Not To Let Your People Get Blackmailed Into Screwing You Over 101 -- I'd take **that** course,_ Lex thought dismally.

"Gabe doesn't have an MBA," Jonathan put out there with a frown ...of _concern?_ "He has practical experience, but..." He shook his head. "You--" he started again, then stopped and made a face. "...Aw, _hell_ ," Jonathan said finally, sounding tired as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I've still got my old course notes upstairs in the attic. It's no accelerated business program, but you can look over 'em if you want."

Lex blinked at them.

Jonathan gave him a wry smile. "They're readable. Martha used to ask me for my notes sometimes."

...Given how efficient and organized Martha had been working for Lionel as an assistant, Lex figured that that was probably a compliment, and a high one at that.

But Lex couldn't help but bite back a little. He didn't like feeling ignorant, especially in the middle of a talk with a goddamn hypocritical lecturing ass like Mr. Kent!

"I don't know why you'd take the courses, and then not use them," he said snidely, before he even considered that maybe he was putting his foot in his mouth in a bad way.

...especially since Jonathan still owned the farm, even if he had it mortgaged out, deep in debt. Not while Lex had his funds tied up in the plant, which was effectively no longer his. Jonathan could do what he wanted with the land. It was his. Lex couldn't even force a buy-out or a sale of the factory, like Jonathan could of the farm if he needed to.

No, all of that only occurred to him after.

But for some reason, Jonathan didn't look offended in the least. Nor did he call him on any of that. Instead, he leaned back against the counter, crossed his arms easily, and said, "Well, what would you suggest that I should have done, tell Clark he couldn't help out around the farm?"

"...What?" Lex said, taken aback and confused, because where in the hell had that come from? Then he paled as it hit him. _Oh god._ "You're not actually blaming the farm going into debt on--!?" _That was ludicrous!_ \--And damaging as hell. If Clark ever found out--

Jonathan looked alarmed, then shook his head in irritation and straightened. "Don't be ridiculous. Clark's a help, not a hindrance!" he barked out, as he let his arms fall and braced his hands against the counter behind him, leaving Lex starting to breathe a little easier at being proven wrong -- as far as he could tell from the man's reaction, Jonathan wasn't lying. "And the fresh air, getting to stretch a little -- it's _good_ for him; helps settle him a bit," Jonathan continued, calming down. "But I haven't farmed the back-forty acres in years. I don't have the hired help for it," he said a little grouchily, shaking his head again.

"Why not?" Lex said, eyeing him, because that sounded more like an excuse than an insurmountable issue.

But Jonathan just shrugged. "Because if I hired on full-timers, Clark would see how much work they were doing, compare it to what he was doing, and want to do more -- as much as they would be putting in -- despite the fact that he should be focusing on school, not pitching in that much, and that would... cause problems," he grimaced. "And it's hard to get good 'hands these days, what with the factory paying more."

Lex fought the urge to roll his eyes. "So my father and I are to blame," he said sarcastically. _Figures._

Jonathan looked up at him. "Well, I guess, in a way," Jonathan said with a slight frown. "I always had a bit of trouble finding hired help with the plant nearby, and creamed corn doesn't sell for as much profit as fertilizer; the profit margins are wider now." He paused a moment. "They'd been struggling for awhile, too. With the change in product, the salaries for the work there jumped up a good couple dollars an hour. When Lionel got done messing around with the town and finally reopened it, said he would train up whoever they hired on as part of the job, my last few 'hands ended up signing on to work there." Lex blinked a few times, before he remembered Earl Jenkins and what little explanation Clark had given him after the disastrous hostage situation was over. "It was higher pay, a steady paycheck, and safer, easier work on a stable schedule. They had families. I understood when they didn't want to sign on for the next year."

"You're... not angry about that?"

Jonathan gave him a look. "You think I should be?"

Lex shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, and ended up sitting back down at the table, staring down at the surface absently.

Jonathan pulled out a chair on the other side and sank down into it himself, sighing. "Look, it was a problem before Lionel bought it, but after he did... it was just that much worse, though not for the reasons you might think," he explained with a sigh. "Yes, I could find people to work the fields easy enough in the spring. But I'd get at least one new young idiot who'd say he'd work through the harvest season, and sure he'd work out for a month or two, nice as you please, get through the planting. Everything'd seem fine... right up until I'd find out that that boy was lying to me only after he'd up and vanished on me. Usually I'd find out later that whoever'd gone missing had been going to interviews to get a job offer at the plant or someplace in the city behind my back, never meaning to stay on for the full season like they'd said." He grimaced and leaned back in his chair, looking up at Lex. "But you can't schedule a crop rotation of a certain size, expecting at least five people to work on it, and be able to look after it with only four, or three, or two," he said, sounding resigned.

"What did you do?"

"Usually? I wouldn't be able to find someone to come on so late in the middle of things, and I'd have to choose what we'd work on, and what we wouldn't, and when. You can't just completely ignore parts of the fields if they're planted, though -- especially not if the bugs get in 'em, or fungus and rot. It spreads," Jonathan said, and Lex started to see the problem. "It's different if they're fallow; you can just plow everything under. Then there's the cow herds, and tending them, too. Making sure the animals are all right, mending the fences, watching out for diseases, feeding them more than just the grazing, all of it." He sighed, sounding pained. "And when it gets to harvest time... well, _everyone's_ busy. Sometimes I couldn't get outside help, and some of it would end up rotting in the fields, if we couldn't get to it in time. There's only so much a body can do in a day, and if there aren't enough dry days in a row for long enough to get all the crops in with the people you've got..."

Lex winced. The Montana ranch had always had plenty of 'hands, and even then he remembered a end-of-summer or two when the adults had started getting grim about 'first harvest' and too much rain...

"You couldn't just have them sign a contract, with penalties for early leave?" Lex asked, because the way Jonathan talked, it sounded like that's all he'd done, and how could he possibly have believed that that would be enough? A man's word?

...and yet it sounded like it _had_ worked, for at least a while, which was--

Odd. It was odd.

And then Jonathan snorted in consternation at him, and things got _weird_.

Because Jonathan told him: "How would that do _anybody_ a lick of good?"

Lex stared.

Then Lex said slowly, "Because if they broke the contract and left early--"

"--what, I could have them pay me a penalty? With what money?" Jonathan asked, tilting his head and giving Lex a look. "I'm lucky if the people I can get to help work the fields have a GED, let alone a high school diploma. They aren't exactly moving on to high-paying jobs, Luthor," Jonathan told him. "Not enough to support themselves and pay me, too. So what would they pay me with? They'd starve first." He shook his head. "It'd cost more to take 'em to court then I could get out of them reasonably, and I'd have a hell of a time getting anyone to sign on to that in the first place," he explained.

Lex felt a little taken aback. "You could--"

But Jonathan cut him off, shaking his head. "If I expected that outta someone, I'd have to write in some assurance that they'd get paid, no matter the end harvest, to make it fair, and I can't do that," Jonathan told him. "This isn't some big commercial farm with thousands of acres of land; I can't be sure how well the crops will do any given season without a crystal ball to tell me the weather. I can only promise a percentage of the harvest gross after each main sale," he told Lex. "Used to be room, board, and a bit of money to cover expenses in the meantime until that."

Lex grew quiet.

"Besides," Jonathan told him, "any penalty would be a pittance compared to what I'd lose for them walking off on me. Even if I could do all that, without worrying about lawyer's and court fees, I _still_ wouldn't get a warm body doing work in the fields out of it," Jonathan said, almost chiding. "I couldn't get back the cost of what I'd sell the crops for, and what'd I'd need to spend buying up what I need I wouldn't have on-hand, tied up in winning a court case. That's a couple thousand dollars at least, Luthor. And what would I do if I won the case and the man declared bankruptcy on me to get out of it, besides court fees I'd still have to pay?" He shook his head.

Lex grimaced at the cost-benefit analysis being laid out before him, but Jonathan wasn't done. "Not to mention that if I went around doing that, suing people like that -- well, what would my neighbors think of me? who would risk working for me? -- and worse, even if I could get someone to sign on to something like that, I'd have to do it for everyone, and enforce it for everyone," he grimaced. "I've had good folk have to take off because their family got deathly-ill, through no fault of their own," Jonathan told him. "I can't give 'em anything but a dirty, dangerous job for a promise that might not come through," he sighed. "Damn near any corporate job in a store has health insurance these days, and I can't compete with that when it's needed; don't want to."

Lex's head was spinning slightly. He'd _never_ thought of that before -- that there might be a time or a situation where having an enforceable contract could be a _bad_ thing.

Then again, he was used to having LuthorCorp's lawyer pool at his beck and call.

Lex winced.

"It wouldn't be so bad if they were honest with me," Jonathan explained, sighing. "Saying that they'd be able to help through just the spring season, or only for the summer -- I can work around that, setting things up, plan things out in advance, find somebody else to cover the time beforehand, maybe," Jonathan said. "It's trickier, and not as profitable, but I could do that... -- _if_ they didn't lie to me," he ended dourly.

Lex felt a strained tension in the middle of his chest. "Well, you've got more forbearance than I do," he said coldly. "I've half a mind to say the hell with it and just let my father do what he wants with the factory -- sell it, wholesale or in parts, close it down, run it into the ground... whatever he wants." And just stop giving a damn, so it would hurt less when he did.

Because Lex had completely lost control of the situation. He couldn't sell off his LuthorCorp shares to try and pay things off because they were the collateral for the original loan he'd taken out for his slightly-less-than-half of the factory. He couldn't even force a vote using his internal voting shares in LexCorp to sell the factory to get his part of the worth of it, which _would_ free up his LuthorCorp shares. If he could do that, then he could either sell his LuthorCorp shares to cover the original debt, or use the sale money to cover the remaining cost of the loan for his original buy-in, and walk away with either stock or cash in-hand, having broken even. Which meant that...

"I don't think Lionel's likely to sell the factory anytime soon, though," Lex said slowly. "That would free up my funds." As things stood, Lex was able to use his LuthorCorp shares to try and influence upcoming LuthorCorp board decisions, but that was it ...for all the good that did him with Lionel owning a majority of LuthorCorp, too, and able to overrule him whenever he liked. Those voting shares themselves might as well be locked in a trust fund with his father holding the keys, for all the good buying power he could use them for now (which was, hint: _none at all_ ).

"No?"

Lex frowned slightly and leaned back in his chair as he worked through the possibilities. "He did want me working there," _maybe to keep me under his thumb?_ "So he's probably planning on keeping it open and reincorporating it into LuthorCorp. But..."

"...with you not working for him, that might change things?" Jonathan supplied.

"Maybe," said Lex. "He'll be making good money off of it, though. Shutting it down wouldn't be a smart move. It's in the black, and with the newest contracts I've set up, it'll only be earning more over time."

"He was going to shut it down before, when you'd just gotten done helping Gabe turn things around," Jonathan pointed out.

"Yes, but he did that to try to force me to have to come back to work at the main branch in Metropolis, to leave Smallville because I couldn't be in charge of a plant that wasn't operational," Lex said. "But I don't want to work for him, and I'm quitting that job. Before, he was getting rid of a job I wanted to keep; but that still involved working for him, just someplace else." _But I'm not willing to keep doing that, now._ "The only way that he could attempt to force me to do that now would be to try to blackmail me into it by threatening to close the plant if I didn't 'come back into the fold.'"

Jonathan gave him a look, and Lex sighed and looked away. No, he wasn't sure he cared enough about the rest of the employees to overlook his anger at the idiocy of his turncoat board of directors, either. The townspeople hadn't quite treated him like a pariah, but they hadn't exactly welcomed him with open arms, either, and he didn't know many of his employees other than the managers and their secretaries, who were not exactly the majority of the general rank-and-file.

"I don't suppose you have any idea what Martha might do?" Lex said, straightening in his chair with a grimace and looking back to the old farmer.

"Hm?" Jonathan frowned at him.

Lex stifled impatience. "I know she's no longer acting as Lionel's personal assistant and PR head for his dealings with the town, but..." _given this morning_... "I doubt that Lionel would ignore her opinions on the matter." _At his own peril, maybe. Dangerous woman._

"Well, she'd probably be happy enough to give him an earful if he was thinking of closing it down and letting it sit empty and unused out of spite," Jonathan said with a grim smile. "Would be bad business practice, too. How much does he worry about the stock price for LuthorCorp?"

Lex blinked at him.

"You're the man's son," Jonathan put out there. "He _ought_ to know that he can't get you to work for him again by closing down the plant, or threatening to. If he won't get anything out of letting it sit there, and he does that anyway... Well, that's a bad business decision. People will think that, and the stock price will drop. He'll just be shooting himself in the foot to spite his face."

Lex blinked again. "I think you either need to lay off the liquor, or stop mixing metaphors," he said carefully.

Jonathan snorted. "Oh, I'm not _near_ drunk enough to stop butchering metaphors like that." Suddenly, he grinned. "So, probably should get down to business, then."

Lex gave him an incredulous look. It was a slow build. "...What?"

"Farmwork," Jonathan said, bracing his hands on the surface in front of him and standing up from the table.

"Right," Lex said quietly, standing up himself. Time to go. He was probably safe to drive... mostly.

Jonathan paused for a moment and gave Lex a look that for a moment he couldn't interpret -- almost... _cagey_ , and yet... _not...?_ \-- until it shifted to... mild disinterest? "Got a lot to do today," Jonathan said aloud, dusting his hands off. "Good clean work. --Not that you'd know anything about that, of course," he ended breezily.

Lex bristled. Hadn't he _just_ got done telling Jonathan that-- "I know how to help out on a farm!"

"Oh. Do you?" Jonathan said as he shoved his chair in, and it set Lex's teeth on edge.

" _Yes_ ," said Lex. "Those summers in Montana, on the ranch--" _I pitched in, just like everybody else!_

"Putting in a full-grown man's worth of work a day at twelve, were you?" Jonathan said lightly, as he reached forward and picked up Lex's discarded coffee cup from the table.

Lex stifled a choked noise of outrage. "I could do at least as much as Clark does now!" he protested. At the very least, in fact -- Clark was only fifteen, in his sophomore year of high school, and working part-time on the farm. Even if Lex had been a lazy ass at twelve -- which, no, he was _not_ \-- he still would have gotten more work done over the course of an eight-hour-plus day during those summers than Clark would be capable of now during the school year, with those constraints upon his time.

Jonathan finished washing the mug in the sink and turned to face him, looking almost smug. "Oh, you think so, do you?" the man said, and fuck him anyway. Lex's eyes narrowed.

"Oh, I _know_ so," Lex stated outright, with full self-assurance and no small amount of simmering rage. He wasn't some lying, lazy, spoiled brat! He'd pulled his own weight at the Black Creek Ranch, and then some! And now Lex was a fully-grown twenty-two-year-old, perfectly-fit and _more_ than capable of anything those 'hands at the ranch could have thrown at him.

"Do you even know what Clark does around the farm?" Jonathan asked him, giving him a sidelong look as he wiped his hands dry with a towel.

Lex rattled off Clark's usual list of daily chores with ease.

Jonathan raised an eyebrow at him. "Didn't think farmwork was something you'd find riveting."

"...I may have compared notes with Clark once," Lex allowed stiltedly. _Or twice._ Cows were _weird_.

Not to mention that Lex had been curious about whether Clark's experiences mirrored his own, and vice-versa. ...Well, mostly vice-versa. Clark had admittedly seemed more curious about comparing Lex's own knowledge through experience to those of the 'hands who worked the Potter horse farm, across the way, than to his own.

"And you think you can handle the real thing," Jonathan said, with no small amusement, and a superior glint in his eye.

" _Just try me_ ," Lex spat out, irate.

Jonathan twitched a smile at him. The next thing Lex knew, Jonathan was swaggering out the kitchen door towards the fields, and he was stomping along right after him.

And that was how Lex ended up spending the next two hours making holes for fence posts in the fields, tossing hay bales into and out of a truck for cattle feed, and mucking out the horse stalls in the barn, all under Jonathan Kent's close-by and highly-critical supervision.

~*~*~*~*~*~

 _Hah!_ thought Lex, as he followed Jonathan back up the stairs and back into the kitchen, still breathing a little heavily from the unexpected exertion of the morning, but not as much as he could have been. He hid a bloody, satisfied smile as he trailed close behind. Because he might be aching and sore, and would likely be feeling the burn in his muscles for the next few days, but by god he'd done a good job of it. _Nobody_ would be able to tell him otherwise, least of all--

Jonathan Kent hummed to himself as he toed off his workboots and shoved open the screen door. "Not bad," he admitted, and Lex found himself stifling a grin.

"Not bad at all," Jonathan repeated, glancing over his shoulder at Lex, "You know your way around a farm. Didn't complain once, even."

He turned away, and Lex said, as he shucked off his own shoes -- not _quite_ ruined from the dirt and grime -- "Well, I had good teachers." The 'hands at the ranch hadn't treated him like a Luthor, treated him like everybody else did -- instead, they had treated him just like they would _anybody_ else, and he'd... well, he'd ~~loved~~ respected them for it. --And if they hadn't been so fair and even-handed about it, he wouldn't have learned, and he certainly wouldn't have felt as included, as _welcomed_ as he had felt during those summers spent there.

"A teacher can't teach when the student won't listen," Jonathan pointed out with a tilt of his head, "Even a good one."

Lex was grinning now, couldn't help it, he had this light airy feeling in his chest and it was bubbling up as a grin for reasons unknown.

"Anyhow, you'd make a hell of a farmer," Jonathan continued, wiping his hands off on a towel. "You'll do."

Lex, still a bit distracted by the strange though not unwelcome feeling in his chest, said, "Do what?"

Jonathan gave him a slightly amused look. "Well, you'll do _work_. As a farmhand." Lex stared at him. "I can't pay you more than room and board, you understand," Jonathan continued on blithely, as he tossed the towel over his shoulder and turned to face him, "but you do need a job since you quit, and I figure that you haven't got a place yet, with your bags still in the car."

_A job? **Here?**_

"What did you think you were doing just now, besides trying out for a job?" and Jonathan had the gall to give him a wide grin.

Lex quickly kicked his mind back a few hours to that morning, reviewing their earlier conversation pre-storming out after the man to the fields. _Son of a..._ \--He'd been manipulated. By this _farmer_. ...Well, shit.

"Why would I want to work for you?" Lex said as he stood there, feeling stunned.

"Because I don't give a damn what Lionel thinks. He can't bully me around like the rest of the town, or the state," Jonathan told him. "You said it yourself: you take a job elsewhere, he'll work to find a way to get you fired or make you quit." _If you can find someone willing to take the risk on you,_ went unsaid, because what competitor would risk having the younger Luthor work for their company? Who would risk Lex gaining insider information and _not_ sharing it with Lionel, even if they seemed to be fighting amongst themselves? Especially after what had happened with the Hardwicks...

Lex grimaced slightly, then wiped it off of his face. "I have more than enough funds that I don't need to find new work right away," he told Jonathan. It was true that he didn't have a lot of petty cash or otherwise more liquid funds on hand at the moment, but that was compared to what he would need for a buyout of the factory.

If he truly needed to make it stretch... "Even if I sold only my cars, I wouldn't have to work a day of my life again." He could certainly buy himself a modestly-sized house and live comfortably on what he still had and owned at least... more comfortably than the Kents did on the farm, anyway. "Not if I... budgeted carefully," _and invested most of the rest accordingly._ He could invest long-term in mutual funds and live off of the dividends of what was left over, with a slush fund for short-term emergency expenditures, just in case.

"Early retirement?" Jonathan snorted. "You'd be driving yourself up the walls with boredom within a day, with nothing to do," he was told somewhat good-naturedly. "Nope," Jonathan said, as he hooked his thumbs in his belt. "I think you'll take the job."

"Why?" Lex said blandly, certain that nothing Jonathan said could convince him of such.

" _Well_ ," Jonathan drawled out, leaning back against the counter. "Clark's a sophomore now, and getting to a point where his grades really matter a lot when it comes to college. With everything else going on with the divorce..." Jonathan grimaced. "He shouldn't be working the farm when he'll already probably have more than enough trouble focusing on schoolwork. And I can't hire on a full-timer because then Clark would want to pitch in more, sure, but that wouldn't be a problem if I only hired on a part-time 'hand to take on just his load of chores instead. Besides, I could use an extra set of hands around here. Why not you?" he said, as if the idea were perfectly reasonable.

Lex stared at him.

"You're the one who's worried about Clark keeping his grades up while still working the farm in the first place," Jonathan pointed out. "And with the divorce and all, that'll just make things harder on him, trying to balance everything," he was told. "But it'd be damn near impossible to find anyone else to take over his share of the farm work right now, and you're right here and able," Jonathan shrugged. "You don't really want to stand by and just watch as Clark's grades drop off like that when you could do something about it, do you?" Jonathan asked him, with a glint in his eye.

Lex stared at him.

"...Are you trying to _blackmail_ me?" he finally asked, hearing his own voice rise at this dubious turn of events. "With **Clark?** "

"Maybe," he was told smugly. "--Is it working?"

Lex was surprised, but only that his mouth wasn't hanging open.

And Lex couldn't come up for a better response to that question than to slide his hands into his pockets and _glower_ at the man, so he did just that.

Jonathan's grin widened. "That a yes?"

Lex glowered harder, because _apparently_ the point wasn't getting across clearly enough.

"That's a yes, then," Jonathan said with some finality, as though he'd had something confirmed, and then the man _turned his back on him and walked away_.

"Go on and get your bags from the car," he was told, "and put them in the guest room on the ground floor next to the bathroom, then get your car into the barn and out of the way." Jonathan came to a stop, then reached out and opened up the fridge. "I'll see what we've got in the way of leftovers." There was a pause as he poked his head inside. "Mm-hmm. Think I can probably get a few sandwiches out of this for us, at least." Lex heard him moving a few things around, going through the fridge.

Lex stared at his back for a few long moments, then clenched his jaw, turned on his heel and stiffly bent down to retrieve his shoes by the door.

He tugged them back on roughly as he shoved the kitchen door open and stomped his way down the back steps, around the house, and over to his car, letting the spring-loaded storm door slam back into place behind him.

He stopped at the side of his car.

He stared at his luggage bags. He turned and craned his neck over his shoulder to glare at the house.

He pulled out his car keys, hit the remote button to unlock it, then reached out and yanked open the car door.

...He ended up moving the car into the barn first, after changing his shoes, then getting his luggage into the house. There was no point in making two trips, let alone getting the interior of his car so dirty unnecessarily. He didn't have the soft funds to be wasting on getting the interior of this or any other of his cars detailed again anytime soon.

His bags seemed small in the bedroom he put them in. The guest room wasn't even so large as his room at Excelsior had been, but then he didn't have to share it with anyone else, either. There was also no lock on the door, something which he was going to make sure was rectified in the near-future.

There were locks on the front and side-kitchen doors, though, and if he was going to be staying on the farm, he'd better be getting keys to the house. None of this curfew shit. He was a grown man, after all, for god's sake. If he was going to be living here... then he'd be _living_ here.

His room could certainly use some brightening up. The bare walls and surfaces were almost downright depressing. The furniture in the living room could use some rearranging, too, with all the empty spaces and the general disarray. The place looked just _sad_ as it was.

~*~*~*~*~*~

**Author's Note:**

> AN2: And they all lived happily ever after! (no, really! ;)
> 
> ...Yes, there is more to this, but I haven’t quite finished the next fic arc yet ^_^;;
> 
> I stopped this fic here because (a) it was a good stopping point, and (b) it would have stopped at a weird place otherwise.
> 
> Continue on if you dare, but be forewarned that the next fic in-series is currently unbeta’d and won’t be getting an update in the near-term...


End file.
